


Good Night, Sweet Prince

by SonjaJade



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Christmas, Execution, Gen, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:56:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8288098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: “It’s like he knows what’s best for you and makes sure you get whatever it is you need.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the bloodiness of Die Hard

Jean lit another cigarette, his fourth in as many minutes, possibly.  Braeda had briefed him on the situation- top secret, classified information.  Mrs. Bradley, former First Lady and widow of the unknown homunculus Wrath was having some very concerning trouble out of her adopted son, Selim.  
  
She hadn’t been told that her husband and son had been monsters created from some alchemical goop from within a living philosopher’s stone. She’d only been told Selim had some kind of supernatural illness that he’d been miraculously cured of.  The now elderly woman had been told at the time to watch for any strange psychological symptoms- delusions, hallucinations, cruel words and actions- anything out of the ordinary from his now calm and cheerful demeanor.  
  
Mrs. Bradley had contacted Mustang about a week ago.  He’d had a single strange episode where he woke up screaming in the middle of the night, at about the age he appeared to be when he was adopted.  He told his mother he’d seen horrible things, could smell blood and rotting meat in the darkness.  At first she’d dismissed the dream, and Selim was back to normal the next day.  
  
A few months later, he’d had another nightmare, even worse than the last.  Two days later, Selim was found in the carriage house cutting the tail off a stray cat with a small hatchet.  The cat turned out alright, after Mrs. Bradley got one of her butlers to rush it to the veterinary clinic, but Selim seemed to be in a daze for several hours afterward, and once he came around back to normal, he had no recollection of the incident.  
  
That had been three and a half weeks ago.  Just three days prior, Selim was found staring out his window intently at a bird in the sunshine on the back lawn, cursing under his breath about his ‘shadows not working’.  Mustang had told Mrs. Bradley that there was no other choice- Selim had to be executed, and it was not on his word alone that he gave Havoc the order.  She was allowed to get the opinion of everyone involved with Selim’s mostly successful recovery, and all of them said the same thing-  
  
Selim must be executed before he murders someone.  
  
When Havoc arrived at the Bradley home, Yule decorations burned brightly against the white backdrop of the freshly fallen snow.  The tree in the window twinkled and gave the impression of a warm and inviting home, not the place of a very imminent death of a very damaged young man.  Mrs. Bradley had been taken away, thankfully.  In his pocket was a single cyanide capsule.  Under his jacket was a shoulder holster with a fully loaded service pistol at the ready.   
  
The contact was an old man named Reginald, the Bradley’s oldest butler, one whom suspected something was amiss with young Selim before the Promised Day.  He led Jean to Selim’s bedroom, bearing a tray of tea and some sweet cakes, and knowing full well what was going to happen next.  
  
Selim sat up in bed and smiled at his guest.  “You must be Mr. Havoc!” he said enthusiastically.  “Mother told me you were a decorated war hero!”  
  
Jean didn’t want to make friends with a kid he was about to execute.  But he smiled at the little guy and nodded.  “Yeah, it was during the coup.  I worked under Gen. Mustang back then.”  
  
Selim was amazed.  “That’s so cool!  I can’t wait to join the army corps one day!”  
  
Havoc hoped he didn’t get sick before it was all over.  “Yeah, it’d be great to have an excited young man in the ranks.”  
  
Reginald turned toward him.  “If I can be of any assistance, please let me know, sir.”  
  
Havoc nodded, then looked back at Selim as the door was closed behind the butler.  “Hey, I brought you something really special.  It’s a new medicine they’ve been working on in Lab 3.”  He took the cyanide pill from his pocket.  “It’s a Yule present from the General, a pill to help make that funny spot on your forehead disappear.”  
  
Selim’s eyes lit up like Christmas.  “Really?  Like make it go away forever!?”  
  
Havoc nodded.  “You’ll never see it again.  I promise.”  He handed the pill over gingerly.  “All ya gotta do, is put in your mouth and crunch it.  It’ll go to work immediately.”  
  
Selim looked down at the pill and sighed contentedly.  “You know, Gen. Mustang has been so kind to me, even though I haven’t been feeling much like myself lately.”  He looked up at Havoc.  “It’s almost like he’s looking out for me in my father’s place.”  
  
Havoc’s feelings were twisting up in his guts, making his palms sweaty and his head ache from uncertainty and guilt.  “He does care about you an awful lot,” he conceded.  “It’s like he knows what’s best for you and makes sure you get whatever it is you need.”  
  
Selim smiled wide.  “Yeah, it’s _just_ like that!”  He grinned down at the pill.  “Well, here goes, I guess!”  
  
Havoc forced his stomach to still as the child put the pill in his mouth and bit down.  He made an awful face, seemed to be taken aback at the flavor of the poison, then shook his head violently as an inhuman voice bubbled from his mouth.  
  
 _“YOU’LL NEVER BE RID OF ME THAT EASILY!”_ it roared.  
  
Havoc drew quickly and fired his gun into Selim’s head twice, the body supported by the headboard.  Blood spattered the papered wall, a glittering bauble hanging from a tree on the nightstand bearing a glob of gray matter as the monster within continued to fight.  
  
Havoc was terrified, but he opened fire into the thing’s chest, neatly perforating a circle around its heart.  Blood streamed from every wound, and though Jean was no physician, the thing he was firing into should have died already- if not from blood loss then at least because there were two bullets in his head and his heart and lungs were swiss cheese- not to mention a mouthful of cyanide coursing through his veins.  
  
Reginald burst in with a shotgun, offering back up as Jean gave it one last go with the .35 millimeter. At last, the body went silent, its bloodied limbs stilled, and Havoc watched and waited to see if the remains would crackle with red lightning as Mustang had warned.  After at least two minutes of waiting, he turned to the butler.  
  
“Get an axe and a burlap sack or a trunk or something.  We’ve got to be sure he’s gone for good.”  
  
The man gave him his gun and four shells, then dashed away immediately to get what Havoc had asked for.  He returned in no time, and he helped pull Selim’s destroyed body into the floor.  Havoc told Reginald to stand on the body’s wrists as he hacked Selim’s legs neatly off below the knee.  
  
The child’s dismembered body was laid carefully into a beat up steamer trunk.  He dialed Mustang from the Bradley residence and asked him to come over immediately.  Within the hour, the General arrived and was escorted to the scene of the execution, where he clapped his hands and cleaned the mess from the room, gathering the blood into a washtub made from the mattress and bedding.  
  
The washtub and trunk were taken out behind the carriage house, where they were both incinerated under the clear night sky.  
  
When the three of them were certain that nothing remained but ashes, they finally breathed a sigh of relief.  It was over.  They dumped buckets of water over the embers and stirred them with rakes to be sure, then at last, they went inside for a warm drink and to try and get some rest after the carnage.  
  
Havoc never celebrated Yule after that, going out of his way to leave for Ishval at that time of year, until eventually he moved there permanently. By the time he welcomed his first grandchild to the world, the Bradley estate was notorious for being a haunted house and home to all sorts of supernatural goings on, and he had no doubt of how it came to be that way.


End file.
